Chapter 29

Since V wasn't giving him any useful answers, just a lot of dramatics, Harry decided to summon his family. He had neglected them over the past weeks and he knew it. But the whole unexpected truce, and dare he say it, friendship with Voldemort had upset the family dynamics more than any other thing in Harry's long life had done before and he'd felt a little out of depth dealing with it, so he'd just avoided it instead.

But truthfully, Harry missed his family. So he brushed his thumb across his amulet and at once all of closest family members appeared before him.

"What are those?" Harry asked, gesturing wildly to the weird skeleton horses.

"Ah," Lily said with a bright smile. "They're thestrals. Magical creatures associated with death. Only those who have seen someone die can see thestrals."

"They look fearsome," Euphemia added pointedly. "But they really are quite gentle creatures. You can even ride them after they've been trained."

"They eat carrion, for the most part," Lily said, but Harry hardly heard her because he got stuck on the idea of riding a winged skeleton horse, which was just an amazingly awesome idea.

"Yeah, carrion, all right," Harry said absently. "But where did they come from?"

"Have you been using necromancy lately?" Charis asked with a arched brow while giving Harry a sharp look.

Harry shrugged. "When don't I use necromancy, honestly?"

Charis rolled her eyes. "I mean, have you been using it out in the open instead of inside your well-warded castle? Somewhere the thestrals might have sensed it?"

"Actually," Harry said slowly, when he remembered the defences he'd put up recently. "I did. I made a bunker with slumbering inferi inside, as protection against intruders."

"There you go," Charis said with a satisfied nod. "According to some obscure texts I once read in the Black family library, thestrals are always drawn to death magics."

"These might even be the Hogwarts herd," Fleamont mused as he looked between several of the others. "Wild thestrals are very skittish and avoid people as a rule. These seem very well socialized."

"Then Hogwarts won't have any beasts to pull the carriages," Dorea said with a sharp laugh, looking far too amused by that idea. "The students will have to walk from Hogsmeade station. Or Dumbledore will have to pull the carriages himself."

"Speaking of Dumbledore," Charis said, drawing everyone's attention to her at once, since she was the official spy keeping an eye on the headmaster. "One of the Weasley children apparently works for Gringotts and he informed Dumbledore through the floo that you had emptied the Potter and Black vaults, Harry." Charis paused while Harry gave her a confused look. "Dumbledore was very upset at that bit of news. Demanded that the Weasley boy find out what had been said between you and the goblin chief. And later he blew up his own bookcase in anger at the idea of you taking your gold and leaving Britain."

"Why would the old man care what I do with my Gringotts vaults?" Harry asked, genuinely baffled why Dumbledore would react in such a way.

"Oh no," James said, expression shifting from a heavy frown to an almost anxious look with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "Oh no, he wouldn't."

"What?" Lily demanded as she rushed towards her husband.

"Speak up, man," Patroclus barked, narrowing his eyes at his grandson.

"Lils, remember when Dumbledore insisted we write that temporary will? Right after Harry was born," James said while he shook his head over and over again in what might be a form of denial.

Lily stared at her husband while she furrowed her brows in confusion. "You mean that scrap of parchment? We never officially filed that as our will."

"Ah," Dorea said, nodding in understanding. "But if you signed it and you never got around to filing an official will to dispute its contents, then an unofficial will would still hold up in court."

"We named Harry our heir, naturally," James explained to his family, who were all giving him curious looks. "But since Harry was the target of a prophecy, or so we thought, we also named others to inherit our possessions, just in case."

"Sirius, Remus and Peter," Lily said, and then she suddenly widened her eyes. "Oh no. In case Sirius, Remus and Peter would be unable to inherit as well, we named Dumbledore and Hogwarts as the final recipients."

"Exactly," James said while he bowed his head. "It explains why Dumbledore had Sirius executed in that absurd trial, and why he would react with anger at hearing that Harry took his gold out of Britain."

"Harry, you need to make an official will as soon as you can," Henry said while several of the others agreed with vigorous nods. "Go to the goblins first thing in the morning and file an official will. They will charge you a few galleons, but it will be worth it to keep our family's wealth out of the hands of that great manipulator."

"I can't believe he'd do that," Lily said, her face a picture of disbelief and grief. "That Dumbledore would betray our family like this, after everything we've done for him."

"The old man still believes in that ridiculous prophecy," Auntie Eustice pointed out, her nose wrinkled while she tilted her chin up. "He probably believes Harry will die at the hands of Voldemort soon enough, so naturally Harry has no need for the family's gold."

"Again that stupid prophecy," Harry muttered, just as V came flying down and landed on his shoulder.

"Harry faint, Harry faint," V cawed while pulling on Harry's ear, the little tattletale.

"Wait, what?" Lily said, floating closer to Harry and giving him a good onceover. "Did you faint? Have you been sleeping enough?"

Harry quickly held up both hands. "It's nothing. I've just been busy and I missed a couple of hours of sleep these last few nights. I'll go to bed soon."

"You'll go to bed now," Lily insisted, eyes narrowed, making shooing motions with her hands.

"Mum!" Harry felt about six years old again while his mother acted like that. "I'm almost a century and a half old, seriously. I'm going to have some dinner and then I'll go to bed, promise." Harry quickly turned to look at the rest of his family. "Does anyone else have anything to report?"

Henry briefly raised his hand to get everyone's attention. "The rumours of you leaving Britain have definitely taken over the ministry. Fudge is very unsure how he should react that that. He's afraid the public will somehow blame him for losing their beloved Boy Who Lived."

"Amelia Bones seemed rather conflicted for a while after Sirius' trial," Bernadine said next. "But she seemed to have shrugged off any concerns and it's business as usual again."

"All right, thanks," Harry said when no one else had anything to report. "Euphemia, could you take over covering Voldemort for the coming weeks. Auntie Eustice is training a new broom maker."

"Of course," Euphemia said with an agreeable smile. "Your young assistants aren't getting up to any mischief, so they'll be fine on their own." Harry had asked his grandmother to keep an eye on Hermione, Ron and Neville, mostly to make sure they wouldn't get into anything over their heads while working for Harry.

"Young Kashvi is a delight to instruct," Auntie Eustice said with a tight but proud smile. "She's very eager to learn, very hardworking, and very respectful. I will turn her into Europe's best broom maker in no time at all, mark my words."

"I'm glad to hear that." Harry turned towards his father. "Dad, I'll send you back to Sirius and Remus if you want," Harry said while giving his father a pointed look. "As long as you tell anyone who sees you that you're a ghost." Harry glanced around his family members. "That goes for all of you."

"I promise," James said solemnly. "I agree it's probably for the best to not divulge all your powers all at once. Ease people into it a bit."

Harry nodded and then looked at Dorea and Charlus. "Why don't you go visit with Rigel for the evening? He's got his own caves in the mountain." While Charlus and Dorea flew off Harry thanked the rest of his family before dismissing them back to their posts.

"Food, food," V cawed, pulling on Harry's ear again.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry sighed, giving the thestrals one last long look before turning back to his castle. Keket was darting around amongst the thestrals, even though it was almost dark now, and she seemed to have a great time so Harry left her to it. V was right that Harry needed to eat and then needed to sleep.

Just as Harry entered the castle through the backdoor he heard knocking on his front door.

Igor shuffled across the hallway while Harry quietly groaned in frustration. He just wanted some peace and quiet and he was fully prepared to send whoever it was away again to come back another time.

Surprisingly it was Voldemort who nodded at Igor and walked inside the castle without hesitation. Then he saw Harry, who stood leaning against the wall in the hallway and he gave Harry a slightly worried look. "Is this a bad time? You look a bit pale."

"Have you eaten?" Harry asked, pushing himself away from the wall. "Because I'm starving and you can tell me whatever you want to tell during dinner. After that I'm kicking you out."

"Sleep, sleep," V cawed, just to get the message across a bit more.

Voldemort nodded in understanding. "I haven't had dinner yet so I'll gladly join you. I have come to the conclusion that Magica needs a constitution."

"Huh?" Harry led Voldemort to the kitchen instead of the fancy dining room. He just wanted a simple, hot meal instead of a three course dinner.

Voldemort hurried to catch up with Harry. "Dear Mrs Stout's objections this morning illustrated that Magica needs to protect its core values a bit better, especially when people might change the laws in the future."

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and gestured at Voldemort to sit down across from him, which he did with no comment on Harry's choice of location. "Igor, wine for two! Violet, make some more of those pork pies I had this afternoon, for two this time."

"Eurgh!"

"Eep!"

Voldemort glanced around in clear amusement for a moment at Harry's servants before he pulled a scroll from his robes. "I have taken the liberty to create a draft that describes the principles on which Magica is founded."

"That no one category of magic can ever be made illegal," Harry guessed as he accepted the scroll and unrolled it.

"Exactly," Voldemort said with a quick nod.

Igor arrived to serve them wine and Harry took that time to read over the scroll, which basically said exactly that by using a lot of fancy words. "This looks good," Harry said as he rolled the paper up again. "But there needs to be an addition." Harry leaned forwards a little and gave Voldemort a pointed look. "That no sentient magical being will ever be denied a place in Magica, and that no one will ever be treated differently based on their heritage."

Voldemort pursed his lips for a moment before giving a slow nod. "I suppose we can add that as well."

Harry gave his new friend his brightest smile just when Violet served them both a plate of pork pie and braised leeks. "I'll ask Sirius, Remus and Regulus for some ideas as well to add to a constitution," Harry said, digging into his pie. "Just in case we're missing something."

"I'll give you a revised copy tomorrow you can show to your friends," Voldemort agreed and took a bite of his pork pie. He raised both eyebrows and made a satisfied humming noise. "This is excellent pork pie," he said after swallowing his bite.

"Isn't it?" Harry agreed happily, and went back to demolishing his own plate of food. After most of it was gone, Harry sat back and sipped his wine. "I've been thinking about people's reactions to Sirius, and how they would react to prisoners from Azkaban who actually are guilty of certain violent crimes."

Voldemort sipped his wine as well and gave a thoughtful nod. "You have a good point," he conceded. "I have been considering this dilemma as well. Breaking out prisoners from a British prison and letting them live in freedom on Magica isn't going to do us any favours on the international stage once Magica becomes public knowledge."

"Yeah, Dumbledore and his cronies might even use that as evidence we're not a separate country, but just a bunch of criminals hiding away on an island somewhere," Harry agreed since he could very well understand how such a thing might play out, especially now that he realized Dumbledore wanted him dead. "That reminds me, I need to go to Gringotts first thing tomorrow to make an official will. Apparently Dumbledore has a very old, unofficial will from my parents that he's using to try to get at my gold. That's why he was so eager to get rid of Sirius."

"I had wondered why the old man wanted to do away with one of his own followers," Voldemort mused with a small frown. "Plain old greed certainly explains it. And I'm more than happy to accompany you to Gringotts tomorrow before taking you to the Malfoys."

"It's a deal." Harry emptied his wineglass and thought about a refill but then realized he really should just go to bed. But he enjoyed Voldemort's company and didn't want to kick the man out just yet. Dilemmas, dilemmas. "About the Azkaban prisoners," Harry said, wanting to have some sort of plan in place before they even thoughts about breaking into the prison."

"We can hide their identities," Voldemort suggested with a wave of his hand. "Give them new identities, as a second cousin or something."

"But people would still notice that," Harry said with a snort. "Tons of people break out of Azkaban and disappear and mysteriously all their long lost second cousins show up a week later."

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed, which made Harry somehow feel very satisfied, seeing Voldemort so thoroughly amused by something Harry had said. "You do make a good point. The best solution would be to hide the fact that they've escaped in the first place."

Harry frowned and fuck it, he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass anyway. This conversation was too good and too important to cut short. He poured more wine in Voldemort's empty glass as well. "How would you do that? Polyjuice potion?"

"Polyjuice potion would wear off after an hour."

"Oh," Harry said, sitting up a little as a thought struck him. "We can bring people with us to Polyjuice into the prisoners, and then kill them and make it look like a plague or something."

"Hmm." Voldemort took a long sip of wine as he stared at Harry with narrowed eyes. "That idea has potential. What sort of plague, though?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno, but I'm sure we can come up with something. Or perhaps create something new that no one's heard of before."

"Yes, that certainly has a good chance of working and hiding any escapes," Voldemort said before tilting his head and giving Harry a challenging look. "Where would you get expendable magical people to kill though?"

"Fuck," Harry said while he briefly hung his head. "It's too bad I already turned Fenrir's pack into inferi."

"Why did you do that?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet," Harry said, warming up to the subject, eager to share his recent work. "I've created a bunker with slumbering inferi, in case of a muggle invasion. I plan on building these bunkers all around the island, but I need a lot of inferi to fill them all, so it might be a few years yet before that project is complete."

Voldemort sat back with a secretive smile on his face while giving Harry an undeniably fond look. "As it so happens, I have a few hundred inferi that have lost their jobs thanks to Regulus."

"What?" Harry asked, staring at Voldemort in confusion.

"The cave where I had hidden my locket was protected by a few hundred inferi," Voldemort explained patiently.

"Ah," Harry said and then gave Voldemort a pleading look. "Could you pretty please bring your inferi to the island to fill up the bunkers I'll be digging in the near future?"

"I can certainly do that," Voldemort said and toasted Harry with his glass of wine.

Harry repeated the toast and emptied his glass of wine again. Why was it that anytime he met with Voldemort they ended up talking about dead bodies and having an amazing time doing it? Harry didn't know the answer to that, but he also didn't particularly care. He was just glad to have someone to discuss all these subjects with. He'd genuinely worried that once he was stuck in the wizarding world he'd never find someone like that again since everybody else Harry met always freaked out at the idea of reanimating the dead.

"I'll leave you to get some much needed sleep," Voldemort said after finishing his own wine. "Thank you again for an excellent dinner."

"Did you get your own house-elf yet?" Harry asked as he stood up while Voldemort did the same.

"Not yet," Voldemort said while following Harry out of the kitchen. "But tomorrow we're visiting the Malfoys, and they have a plethora of the things, so perhaps they'll let me buy one of them."

Harry perked up as they walked through the hallway. "Do you think they have lots of house-elves buried around their property?"

Voldemort chuckled and shook his head, though it looked like a fond gesture. "They probably should. You can always set that as your price for moving their mansion."

"Excellent idea," Harry said with a happy smile and then he noticed Voldemort's amused look and he pointed a finger at the other man. "You may think my obsession with house-elf inferi is funny, but just you wait until I have a small army of them that will farm the lands here in Magica and keep us all fed."

"You won't hear me complain about your plans for a house-elf inferi army, dearest," Voldemort said with a crooked smile just as Harry opened the door for him. "It's the rest of the people here that might not be quite so thrilled with your choice of farmers."

"Don't care," Harry said with a cheeky grin and a careless shrug. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!"

"Get some sleep," Voldemort said while glancing at Harry over his shoulder and then he disappeared into the night.

Harry went straight to bed and barely managed to pull his clothes off before crawling under the blankets and falling asleep almost as once. He woke up again at a reasonable hour after a much needed full night of sleep and felt rested enough to face the day without any more fainting spells. Hopefully.

As Harry got dressed he glanced out his bedroom window and saw that the large herd of thestrals was still milling about his property. They would probably grow hungry soon and need feeding, so Harry apparated to Spellbridge after a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with a hot cup of tea.

Harry was in search of a particular muggleborn wizard. Masaru Fujita was a 30-something man who'd until recently run a small courier company in London with his father. But after his father passed away unexpectedly from a heart-attack, Masaru sold the company since it had never been his own passion. Masaru heard about Magica from an old Hogwarts friend and decided to move there for an early retirement of sorts. Masaru figured if he lived frugally and grew most of his own food he could live off the money he'd earned by selling his father's business for the rest of his life.

"Harry!" Masaru said with a bright smile when he opened the door. "I cannot tell you how good it is to live here. I didn't even realize how much I missed using magic in my day-to-day life before I started using it again."

"I'm glad to hear that," Harry said, genuinely pleased to see people settling in so well. "You mentioned that you loved animals and that you might want to take up some part-time work eventually, right?"

Masaru nodded while giving Harry a measured look.

"I seem to have come into the possession of a herd of thestrals," Harry said with an almost embarrassed shrug.

"Thestrals, yeah, I know those from Hogwarts." Masaru shook his head. "Most children in my year called me crazy when I told them I saw skeletal horses flying above the forest." Masaru lowered his voice a little. "I'd seen my mother die in the hospital when I was a small boy, so I could see the thestrals while most others could not."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Harry said automatically with a solemn bow of his head. "I need someone to procure carrion for them on a regular basis and I assume the muggle world would be the best place to look for it."

Masaru frowned while he tilted his head, clearly thinking things over. "Muggle farmers regularly have dead cows, pigs and sheep that die from diseases or injuries, and that they have to pay for to be disposed of properly. They could very well give those away for free if we asked them."

"That would be great," Harry said with a few quick nods. "Are you willing to arrange such a thing a few times a week? If you want to, this could become an official position in the future once we procure more magical animals for the island."

"I'd be the Game Warden?" Masaru asked, visibly warming up to that idea. "It's just that I've set up my garden and I've decided to breed some heritage breed chickens, but that doesn't take up much time and I'm getting rather bored doing nothing all day."

Harry chuckled and gave Masaru a thumb's up. "You're hired, Game Warden. You're also welcome to start thinking about what other magical creatures to add to the island. And just dump the carrion near my property. I'm sure the thestrals will find it."

"I'll make sure they'll get fed today," Masaru said with a small bow, and Harry thanked him before flying towards Gaunt Mansion to collect Voldemort for their planned adventures that day.

"I never realized this before," Harry said the moment Voldemort opened the door for him. "How many muggleborns get educated at Hogwarts and then have to find work in the muggle world because no one will hire them in the wizarding world."

Voldemort snorted in clear amusement. "I see you've finally realized that nepotism is as alive in the wizarding world as it is in the muggle world."

"Huh?" Harry said, unfamiliar with that word.

"It means that people usually prefer to hire their family and friends, or at least people they have some connection to through shared acquaintances," Voldemort explained while he shut the door behind himself and joined Harry in the garden. "And muggleborns have no connections in the wizarding world, so in a job market with limited jobs available due to the small size of the wizarding world they will always be the last to be hired."

"That's just not right," Harry said with a frown while V landed on his shoulder and pecked at Voldemort's shoulder for standing too close.

Voldemort ignored the bird and shrugged. "It is what it is. I had the highest NEWT scores Hogwarts had ever seen and even I had trouble finding a decent job straight out of Hogwarts. While I made friends amongst the purebloods in my house, their parents mostly thought of me as an upstart half-blood who needed to be taken down a peg or two."

"So what did you do?" Harry asked, eager to hear about Voldemort's earlier years.

"I found a job at Borgin and Burkes, a shop in Knockturn Alley that specializes in the more…obscure magical artifacts." Voldemort didn't seem concerned about revealing this sort of information. "At that point I had already decided to become a Dark Lord and launch a campaign against the Ministry so I wasn't too worried about my official career path."

Harry chuckled and gave Voldemort a fond look. The more time Harry spent with the man, the more he genuinely started liking him and his sharp sense of humour. "Well, what this means, I suppose, is that we can expect many more muggleborns to want to move to Magica."

Voldemort pulled a scroll from his robes and handed it to Harry. "And thanks to our revised constitution, they now have the undeniable right to do so."

"Thanks." Harry tucked the scroll away into his satchel.

"Gringotts first," Voldemort said while placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, and he apparated them both to Diagon Alley.

"Oh." Harry stopped walking when he remembered something. Seriously, he really should keep better track of his to-do lists. "I just remembered that Regulus and Sirius gave Grimmauld Place to me to sell."

"The goblins can sell real estate for you," Voldemort said while Harry fell into step with him again. "They will charge you for it, naturally, but they are the best choice for selling more expensive properties, and a town house in London is quite valuable."

"I'll ask about it at the bank then," Harry said and soon enough they reached Gringotts.

Thankfully it wasn't very busy and Harry asked for a consultant to file a will and sell some property. The will was easy enough to arrange. It cost a flat rate of fifteen galleons and Harry signed it in blood, with one copy for himself and one filed at Gringotts. Harry left all his riches to Magica, to be used for the development of the country, in the case of his untimely death.

Selling Grimmauld Place took a bit of haggling, since the goblin wanted twenty percent of the sale price but Harry managed to negotiate him down to ten percent. Plus a one-time fee of 150 galleons for a curse-breaker to examine the property and do away with any problematic magic. Harry signed the contract and thus Grimmauld Place was officially on the market.

Just as they left the bank, Voldemort halted and Harry stopped as well, giving him a curious look. "Since you seem so eager to bring the disenfranchised to Magica," Voldemort said softly while he looked towards a dark corner beside the bank. "It might be a good idea to start recruiting future citizens from Knockturn Alley."

"I didn't even realize people lived there," Harry said as he stared at the dark corner with a healthy sense of curiosity.

Voldemort gave him a look as though he'd just said something very silly. "Of course people live there. Mostly those that the ministry sooner forgot even existed."

Harry was now feeling genuinely confused. "Like what sort of people?"

"The poor, the disabled. Hags and vampires. That sort of thing."

"Wow," Harry said, burning with curiosity. "And you worked there once?"

"Lived there, too," Voldemort said while pulling on Harry's elbow to follow him. "Come, let's take a look. The Malfoys can wait for an hour."